Get Behind Me
by Krackaroo21
Summary: Why couldn't he have a normal nose? With these depressing thoughts, Mugman confuses lies with truth.


**Hello! How are you?** **Here is a fic I thought up, and I found it really powerful.**

 **Enjoy**

 **\--E--**

He and Cuphead came by the shore often.

With the shore merely yards away from the cottage, they would rise in the morning to find broken sand dollars and bottle caps on the short stretch of sand. Everyday, whether it be rain it sun: wake up, work, play, work some more, play some more, then religiously go down to their personal beach and build kingdoms. They did it ever since they could remember.

But now, Mugman looked down at the water, down at his reflection, and whimpered. Tears ran down. The waves brushed against the rock he sat on and his porcelain knees while Inkwell isles mourned along. The isles wailed under the overcast evening.

"Why couldn't've I been born with a normal nose?"

Its size was scary; he didn't deny it. He couldn't. His nose hung on the end of his face and weighed it down by half a ton. How could a blue nose be that large? He had heard hundreds of comments before, like how hideous or cute it was. They were never said in front of his nose, of course. Always to the side.

"Look, there goes that poor boy," a neighbor lady had said to her friend. "He's been dramatically born with a doorknob for a nose."

"I would simply die if I had that curse."

Gemstone tears dropped off his cheeks and shattered in the water. The isles rippled. "Why couldn't I have a normal one?"

Porkrind had finished counting a different day's profit. "Oi, Big Nose, tell your brother to buy somethin' already. I'm closin'."

His palms ached. "Cuppy has a better one than I do anyways..."

"Step right up, kiddo!" Beppi the Clown had cheered from his tent, folding balloons. "I got a friendly giraffe for ya!"

Mugman had taken it. "Thanks!"

"'Course, lil' buddy," he had said before poking his nose. "Boop! Hahaha! Love the nose, kid! Now tell me which tent you got it from. I should use a big blue one instead of a red one sometime."

The shadowy water looked back at him. Did this have to be him?

He stayed at the shore for little over half an hour, like most times. And like most times, his brother would arrive soon.

Cuphead had to be coming, he knew. It always happened. Nothing of this--nothing of him slipping out after a silent meal to drop a few tears, nothing of Cuphead retrieving him and spoon feeding him flowery lies, nothing of Elder Kettle's arm around his shoulders--was new.

"Your nose isn't big!" His brother had said many times since it was the only script he had. "It's glorious! Pal, I think I know handsomeness when I see it."

"My boy, all is well." Elder Kettle would soothe him. "Never forget that."

How can he be well? Whether in or out the house, teasing was expected. Didn't they know that poking his nose or teasing about it only added to the bottle inside him? The bottle: a build up of liquid criticism in his heart, collecting it into high-class wine for demons to toast in his defeat. They seemed to be drinking more often these days.

It started to rain. Just a sprinkle.

Maybe he could make it easier for everyone and march back himself. Cuphead, he sniffed, shouldn't be the one to drag him back and be troubled by this. Elder Kettle shouldn't have to go out of his way to comfort him.

He wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it. He wasn't worth it.

This put a trance on him. He wasn't worth it. He sobbed and didn't stop. He wasn't worth it. Thoughts like this never overwhelmed him like this before; they were loud today. Although, a pocket in his mind, it was all true. You are not worth it. The loudest thought of all told him everything was true. Then again, the loudest thought said to him, your family shouldn't lie to make you smile again. That was not worth it either, correct?

This seemed true, Mugman thought and wiped his nose as harshly as he could. They shouldn't like to comfort him. Then, like a cloud fell on him, a shadow engulfed him.

The new thought pressed on; maybe you should just toughen up and not let anything get to you. Aren't you strong?

I am, he thought.

The waves became burning acid against his legs as the thought whispered: "Maybe it would easier to just ignore it. It's bad to think so poorly of yourself, y'know."

Mugman found himself nodding as a hairy, black arm wrapped around him.

"No one's perfect, boy. So why be saddened if you can never be happy with yourself? Just ignore it."

"... It?"

"Yes, the thing that bother you."

"Like… everything? Everyone teases me."

The Devil grinned. "How else? Why put up with those who weigh you down?"

Mugman kept his blank trance out on the gray horizon, not noticing the Devil's claw draped over his shoulder. Even if it was the Devil, he thought, he didn't change his tears. He felt hypnotized. But the arm on his shoulders, he thought, felt like Elder Kettle's. He, he thought, was a lot like Elder Kettle. Tears cleared up.

"That's it, boy," he said. "Isn't it nice to get away from all the teasers for a bit?"

"Yeah, I feel hundreds better when I do."

"Good, because that's the beauty of independence. Although, wouldn't it be better to just get away from it entirely?"

Independence, as Elder Kettle had put it, was a sign of strength. He chewed on it. Was that what it meant to get away from it entirely?

He let the words trickle out like a cracked dam. "That sounds good."

"Of course it does. A life of independance is for the strong like you."

"But I can't get away from everything. Everywhere I go people tease me. And I can't just not go outside. Me and Cuphead like goin' around and doin' stuff, y'see, like them sand castles over there." He pointed to the washed over lumps on the strip of beach. "I like to build them, but Cuphead still teases me when we play."

"You should always do the things you love. That's where true happiness comes from, but stay away from the things that make you uncomfortable, like teasers and him. Why should you put up with that trash? Why can't you be strong and be your own person?"

"We argue about what to build sometimes. He likes towers and I like castles." Mugman rambled mindlessly, and looked at the Devil, looked into his yellow slitted-eyes. "But I can't always make only castles though. A kingdom needs towers to protect the village from dragons."

"There's no need, y'know. There's no consequence, y'see. You can do anything you want to."

Mugman rolled his head, splashing water out as a headache planted itself in his mind. The rain picked up. He thought harder despite it. "Do I even want to? I just wanna build stuff with Cuppy."

The Devil's arm became heavy. "He'll tease you and you'll be sad."

"You said I can be tough though."

"Not when you're subjected to others that make you sad. Just get away from it."

"I dunno…"

"Just escape it and you'll finally be happy."

"I don't… I don't think that's how strength goes." Like a fishing line snapped, Mugman broke from his trance. "That's wrong and I see it now. You're wrong, Devil."

"You know I'm not."

"Why am I ev'n listening to you?" He stood up. "You're the Devil!"

A lightning strike.

In an instant of a sour note, the Devil jumped away, baring his claws, and stalked around Mugman. He gnashed his teeth like a challenging grizzly bear as thunder filled the isles.

"Strength is like a decent nose, Mugman," he spat. "Everyone has it but you."

Mug said nothing through the storm. Shaking, he said nothing as the wind picked up and blew daggers into his eyes. He saw the plastic in the creature's words now, but didn't argue the evil away. Evil, Elder Kettle had told him, was always there to begin with.

More flashes and thunder.

The Devil scoffed. "That's right. You know you can't stand up to me because I speak the truth. You can't argue fact. And unlike your dirty family, I speak the truth."

Mug walked away, his boots printing the sand with ugly faces. "No. You don't speak right."

"You know I do."

"I know you don't. Elder Kettle told me you're a liar. A filthy, fat, disgusting..."

"Convincing liar," the Devil snickered. "I almost had you. I almost got you to isolate yourself and follow me. I almost had your soul. This close"--he held up two nails-- "from chaining you up in hell."

"But you didn't." Mug boiled, shaking all over. "I know better 'cause Elder Kettle learned me good, Devil!"

"You'll be there eventually, y'know, in hell... He can't hide that fact from you. You and your brother will be there with me, Dicy, and all the other murderers to burn."

The sky cracked a lightning whip over the isles. A searing pain splintered into his heart. Thunder shook the sands as Mugman opened his throat to shriek.

"I am no murderer!" Fresh tears. "I am Mugman! I am good and I will never go to hell!"

"No, you're not good. You have done terrible things, remember? They're uncountable..."

Everything was fixed, he had to remember. He had to remember the contracts that became ashes. He shook his head violently like the trees above. These were empty lies. Why didn't he see it before?

"I can be stronger than you!"

"You'll either die once and for all and join us, or I'll drag you and your brother down into the fire."

"Liar!"

"You'll rot with us."

"Liar!"

"I'll have both of you and make you pay for what you've done to me."

"SHUT UP, YOU LIAR!"

Lightning. Thunder.

"Am I a liar? Maybe, but I know everything about everyone. That's no fib. And I know your imperfections will get you." The Devil dissolved into the shadows of the trees, the shadows which he came from. "If a stupid nose can make you cry, anything can. You're weak and you'll burn."

"I won't cry because of you," Mug promised with wet eyes. "You're not worth it."

The Devil was gone.

The storm was his final note--his echoing mark--that made Mugman run up the trail and into the cottage. Bolting through the living room, the hallway, then into his room, he collapsed onto his bed. Clawing his pillow close.

Everything fell into grayness. Stale rage and nausea.

Cuphead and Elder Kettle crept in later, after a minute had passed. We were about to get you, they said. What happened, they asked. This wasn't anything like the times before, not with the way Mugman trembled like he was possessed.

For the rest of the night, he cried on both of their shoulders. And, for the first time in the longest time, cried about something other than his nose.

 **\--E--**

 **I think we all feel like lies can be true when we doubt ourselves, but we also need to remember the truth of everything. We all need to be careful of toxic or else we can find ourselves in dangerous situations.**

 **I hope this inspires you to remember all the good you do in your life. You're doing better than you think you are!**

 **Have a golly good day!**


End file.
